This tactic is a lame one, as it inevitably leads to the kind of painfully uncomfortable confrontation with life's unstoppable change that I described in my introductory paragraph. I've tried my best to change my hard-issue approach, but since past efforts have not helped much, all I can do is pray for God to put the words in my mouth and make me move the way He wants me to when the time comes. As for now, I initiate plan B: change of topic.
Noah has become a very skilled runner. Down our hallway, at least. He's honing his ninja-skills impressively fast. Now, before I can intercept him halfway down the hallway, he can be out of his room and into ours before I have the chance to kick off the covers. When I handle this situation, the end result is always Noah getting put back in bed. When I, in heavy exhaustion, beseech Stephan to intercede for me, this is the usual result:
Also, today I sifted through Noah's old hand-me-downs again in search of one specific shirt and I ended up finding quite a few more outfits that will suit Witten handily in the oncoming months. And, just for kicks and giggles (and in hopeful anticipation of colder weather), I tried on Noah's old/Witten's new 12 month winter coats.
|What 'chu looking at, ese?|
Be blessed readers!